


Five Years

by joeyjwitter



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: 3+1 trope, Age Difference, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-09
Updated: 2015-05-09
Packaged: 2018-03-29 18:30:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3906349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joeyjwitter/pseuds/joeyjwitter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The three times the five years age difference between Bellamy and Clarke changes things and the one time it doesn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Years

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I've been working on this fic on and off for the last like two months and I'm not 100% sure how I feel about this but I couldn't just not post it because it took so long. So I hope you enjoy this monster fic because I've never written something so long before and I hope I don't bore or lose anyone's interest through the story.

_If I could walk on water,_

_If I could tell you what's next I'd make you believe,_

_I'd make you forget..._

-

**I**

Clarke smiles brightly from her spot in the passenger seat as the open window whips her unruly hair around her face. She can hear her father’s chuckle beside her while observing his daughter’s obvious excitement. Before they left, she had asked where they were going but he only told her that it was a surprise and would not budge with any hints throughout her pleading but _now_ Clarke knew exactly where they were headed. She could smell the salt of the ocean, almost tasting it on her tongue as they neared the doc area. Ever since she was four years old, her and her parents would go sailing every summer. Even as a young girl, she loved everything about the sea and she started to look forward to the days where the air was a perfect time to go sailing.

Eventually though, her mother had gotten busy with work and it became a tradition just between Jake Griffin and his daughter. Clarke didn’t really mind her absence, Abby always ended up getting sick due to the waves or wanting to return back home shortly after arriving. She really enjoyed the time with her father, she took pride in the fact that she was able to learn the ropes of sailing so quickly and so young. Her father had diagnosed her with “Sea Fever” after their third trip out. She was gripping the handle of the door as she viewed the open waters in front of them, before Jake could even pull to a full stop, she’s ripping off her seatbelt and sprinting towards the docs. She hears her father call out for her to wait but she doesn’t. Of course she doesn’t. Instead she looks out into the gleaming water with the sun reflecting off the surface.

Her eyes are searching for their usual boat when her father appears behind her, his hands on her shoulders. She cranes her neck to look up at him, he’s smiling and waving which causes her eyebrows to furrow in confusion before she looks forward. She spots a man around her dad’s age, tan skin and jet black hair coming towards them with a bright smile on his face. Clarke’s wonders if they’ve met before, but her brain draws a blank, however her father seems very friendly as he walks around his daughter to greet him with a handshake. They’re speaking about something inaudible to her ears and she rocks back and forth on the heels of her feet impatiently, wishing they’d wrap it up so she could get out into the water. That’s when her father yells for again.

“Clarke, this is Marcus,” he introduces as she takes a few steps closer, “Marcus, this is my daughter, Clarke.”

Marcus holds out his hand “Nice to meet you, Clarke. Your father tells me you’re very impressive when it comes to sailing.”

Clarke shakes his hand before shrugging, “I guess.”

That earns a chuckle from him but she’s not sure what was amusing about her answer. He straightens as he nods towards a Ketch sailboat and she wonders briefly where their Cutter one was, “This is her – I was out yesterday evening,” he says, “Sails perfectly.”

“Great,” Jake grins, “Now let’s get those life jackets.”

Clarke had figured he was directing that to her but when they follow Marcus to the little cabin where all the supplies were located, she watches as he pulls one over himself. When she looks towards her dad, he’s too busy grabbing one of the top shelf to see her questioning eyes.

“Where’s that boy of yours?” Jake asks as he hands down the next life vest to Clarke who takes it hesitantly.

Marcus looks up as he clasps the last buckle, his eyes scanning the parking lot when he finally spots what he’s looking for, “Late as usual.”

Clarke see’s the black beat up pickup truck pull to a stop before someone jumps out. He has a mop of dark curls and bronzed skin, she can see his freckles dusting his cheeks even when he’s still feet away from them. He had to be at least seventeen or so. When he notices the small crowd all watching him, he looks almost sheepish.

“Nice of you to join us,” Marcus say’s and Clarke doesn’t miss the way his face hardens for a fraction of a second, “Jake, Clarke, this is my son, Bellamy.”

She doesn’t know if she just imagined the way he tenses when he’s announced as his son but he comes to stand beside Marcus and offers his hand to her dad, “It’s nice to meet you, sir.”

His voice is clipped, going against his kind words but Jake only smiles warmly as he places his hand in his, “Call me Jake.”

Bellamy purses his lips and Clarke thinks that’s his way of saying he won’t be doing so without verbalizing it. His eyes then move to Clarke and instead of shaking her hand as well, he just nods once in acknowledgment. She doesn’t know if she’s relieved or offended that he doesn’t seem to want to speak to her.

“Alright,” Marcus tosses a life jacket at Bellamy who catches it with ease, “Let’s get going.”

Clarke is bewildered and even a little angry that these… _strangers_ were intruding on her bonding time with her father but one peek at Jake and his smiling face and she just knows that he was the one to extend the invitation. She sighs quietly to herself, her dad just had to be Mr. Friendly. When she glances up, she realizes her exhale wasn’t as quiet as she thought because Bellamy was looking at her with an eyebrow raise and a slight upturn at the corner of his lips.

She turns away quickly and shuffles towards the boat feeling slightly embarrassed. Her father helps her onto the boat before asking her to check the lines. She nods her head in the assertive way Clarke always does when Bellamy clambers aboard. She’s tugging on the bolt rope when she feels his gaze on her. She looks over her shoulder thinking he’d turn away but he only crosses his arms over his chest with a curious expression and she notices he’s not wearing his life vest.

“ _What_?”

He doesn’t even blink when he asks, “How old are you?”

She’s taken aback by the question before she signals to her dad that they’re fine to go before returning her attention to Bellamy, “Twelve…why?”

He snorts and shakes his head, “At twelve I barely knew the difference between the Hull and the Bow of the boat,” he says, “And you’re in charge of the ropes.”

She doesn’t know how to react to his words. Was he complimenting her knowledge? Or was he simply just making a comment? Clarke shrugs a shoulder and looks over to where her father and Marcus are trimming the mainsail.

“I see you’re pissed,” Bellamy says as he leans against the edge of the boat opposite her.

She snaps her head in his direction, “What are you talking about?” Had she really been so obvious?

“Please, I saw the way you were glaring at the back of Marcus’s head,” he’s smirking now and she wonders if it was a regular thing for him to refer to his father by his first name, “Don’t blame you.”

The breeze picks up as they head out deeper in the water and she pushes her mass of blonde hair out of her face, “If you’re not a fan of your dad, why are you here?”

Bellamy is now the one who looks surprised and Clarke feels triumph for a second because he doesn’t seem like someone to be easily caught off guard, “He says its good business.”

His words cause things to click into place, “Oh – he owns the docs…” that’s how her father must have known him, “Good business how?”

“To schmooze with the rich clients,” he answers, “Get them to come back and spend a shit load of more money.”

His tone is laced with impassiveness but his words are rather offensive and she wonders if he even realizes it.

He’s still leaning against the edge of the boat, his eyes casted out towards the water, when she says, “You’re not doing a good job at schmoozing.”

Bellamy lifts his head with a laugh, “Sorry, princess, what would you like to chat about?”

She narrows her eyes at the nickname, she knows it’s just to mock her obvious wellbeing, “Absolutely nothing.”

Something like a ‘huh’ leaves his lips as he turns away from her. She takes that time to make her escape and walk towards her father who’s drinking a beer at the front of the boat while Marcus takes hold of the sails in the middle.

“Hi, angel,” Jake smiles when he notices her before gesturing towards the sails, “I promise you’ll get your turn.”

She shakes her head as she takes a seat in front of him, watching as the waves lap against the sides of the boat, “Why did you invite them?”

Jake’s eyebrows crease, “Clarke, don’t be rude. They’re nice people,” he says, “Marcus gave me a great deal on this boat.”

“Dad, this is supposed to be _our_ time,” her words cause his expression to soften, “And anyways Bellamy made it clear that he was pretty much forced into coming along for business.”

Jake turns his head to see Bellamy standing by Marcus now, he’s helping him with the sails and his face is still blank but his jaw seems tense.

“Bellamy is just having a hard time adjusting,” her father’s voice is low so not to be overheard, “His mother passed a year ago and Marcus is taking the role of a full time father.”

Clarke glances over at them again and a second later Bellamy looks away from his father and catches her eye, she feels herself reddening again, this time it’s more than just embarrassment. She realizes now why he clearly didn’t seem to enjoy the company of his father. She wouldn’t either if her dad only fully came into her life because her mother had died.

She looks down at the cooler that provided her options of drinks, she grabs two cans of cokes before moving away from her spot. Bellamy had wandered away from the sails and instead was sitting on the floor, his back against the boat, with his eyes closed and head lolled back. Clarke stops short of him for a few seconds before taking the spot next to him.

The movement causes his eyes to open and there’s confusion sketched across his face when he notices her presenting him with one of the cans before he slowly takes it, “Thanks.”

She only nods once before snapping off the top of her own and taking a sip. They stay silent, sitting side by side as they hydrate themselves with their cold beverages. She watches as Jake and Marcus laugh and her father gestures something widely with his hands. Her father was also an entertainer, something she wished she took after him, instead she was more reserved and stoic like her mother.

“You did good with the ropes,” he says and she looks over at him only to see his eyes have closed again.

“You did _well_ ,” she corrects out of habit to which he pops one eye open, “Sorry.”

He chuckles, his head bowing so that his chin came to rest on his chest, “You really are smart.”

“In some areas,” she replies modestly only causing him to laugh again, “Thank you though.”

He nods once before he says, “I’m sorry about me and Marcus.”

She shrugs, “It hasn’t been too bad.”

Clarke’s sure she surprises him with her words (she surprised herself too) but he only juts out his lips and nods his head before his mouth comes in contact with the metal rim of the can and they regain their comfortable silence.

She’s even more surprised at how quick time passes. After a quick lunch, being able to direct the boat with the sails, and a tirade with Bellamy, they were returning to the docs. She was pretty sure her face was a blotchy red from the sun and she finds herself jealous (and maybe a little attentive) that Bellamy’s skin only seems to glow and his freckles appear darker.

Their disagreement had been about which history novel was better (he was for Outlander and she for Adventures of Huckleberry Finn) which ended up with him bellowing; how the _fuck_ did you read both of them at twelve?Causing Marcus to yell at him for his “language” but Clarke and Jake only laughed in unison.

“Thank you again for letting us come along,” Marcus says when they’re all on land and he shakes Jake’s hand one last time.

“Of course,” Jake responds as he then moves his hand back to Bellamy who takes it in a much more courteous way then he had earlier, “We should do it again.”

Marcus agrees whole heartedly as he says his goodbye to Clarke. She shakes his hand as well and her eyes then fall on Bellamy who flashes her a heart racing grin before following his father towards their car.

That night she dreams of saltine air and a certain freckled boy.

**II**

Clarke places her sketchpad against her lap and the pencil behind her ear as she rummages through her bag for her bottled water. She was currently situated in the middle of Central Park, her back pressed up against a tree trunk as she sketched almost everything and everyone. With everybody out enjoying the ideal weather, she figured it was the perfect time to do some drawing. With a huff of realization that she drank all the liquid already, she hoisted her bag over her shoulder and her sketchpad under her arm as she made her way towards the coffee shop nearby. The bell above the door signals her arrival and her eyes sweep the area of the people who also needed a refreshment. She takes a few steps forward as the line diminishes little by little and she’s met with a young girl with long brown hair tied into a low ponytail and uneven cut bangs that she pulls off well. 

She gives her a smile and her order before she moves towards the back to wait for her ice coffee. Her attention falls to the windows and towards the park again. She didn’t go into the city often but when she did, it was because of days like these. Where she felt she could let herself be free from her mind, from school, from her mother, and focus on the simple things, things that made her chest feel light, things that made her happy, like drawing. Clarke spots her drink and makes a beeline through the many people waiting for their own. She quickly takes a much needed sip and hums in appreciation at the pleasant taste. She pivots around to get back to her previous position when she collides with a hard chest.

“Oh my God,” she yelps when the cover of her drink pops off and spills against her and the stranger, “I am so sorry!”

When she looks up, she’s met with dark eyes and her heart stops for a second. She doesn’t even realize she’s holding her breath because this couldn’t be – no way – _Bellamy_? He’s grabbing a few napkins off someone’s table and wiping it against him, smiling slightly.

“Its fine,” he says and she knows now that she’s been staring, it _is_ him, his voice is deep and his freckles are unmistakable, his hair is cut shorter but other than that, he still looks exactly the same, “It happens.”

He finds her gaze and his head tilts to the side and her heart starts to race, “Are you…,” she finds herself starting to nod before he could finish, “…okay?”

Wait, _what_?

“Huh – _oh_ yeah, I’m fine,” she takes the napkins he offers her and dabs it against her shirt, “I can’t believe I just did that.”

He shakes his head, “It’s always crazy in here around this time,” he tells her.

Clarke doesn’t really know what to feel, he doesn’t recognize her at all, which might not necessarily be a bad thing. She was twelve then, starting her awkward phase, and he was older, more mature, and obviously attractive. She should have known just because she remembered every word that passed between them didn’t mean he would.

“I’m still sorry though,” she says and he nods with half a smile.

She remembers that smile all too well. She wants to curse herself for regaining the memories that filled so many of her preteen thoughts. She may have grew a slight crush on him at that time. It wasn’t her first but she did feel pretty silly for thinking of him every now and then but it didn’t last long.

She sets (what’s left of) her coffee onto the small space provided on the counter to place her sketchpad into her bag before she’d head back to her tree when he says, “Clarke?”

Her head whips up but he’s not looking at her. Instead at her cup with her name scribbled on the side.

“Clarke,” he repeats and his eyebrows pull in, “Clarke Griffin?”

She swallows hard, seemingly forgetting how to use her mouth so instead she settles for a nod.

“I knew you looked familiar but…” he rubs the back of his neck, “Sorry, I sound creepy as hell, I’m –,”

“Bellamy.”

He lets out a breath of a laugh and his hand falls back to his side, “Wow. How long has it been?”

“Three years,” she answers and her fingers absentmindedly play at the end of her braid.

“Well you’ve grown,” he notes out loud, “Still short but you’ll get there.”

She can’t help but laugh at that, rolling her eyes good naturally, “Well we can’t all be giants.”

He disregards her comment with a shrug and instead asks, “So is there a reason you guys never came back to our docs? Did you find something better?”

Clarke is well aware that he’s teasing her but the smile immediately drops from her face and Bellamy looks to be wishing he could take back his inquiry, “Uh…no. Actually my dad died the following winter.”

Bellamy’s eyes widen at the information before he looks down at his shoes, “Shit,” he whispers more to himself then to her before lifting his gaze, “I’m so sorry, Clarke. He was a good guy.”

She nods her head once with a small but strained smile, “He was – thank you.”

“My mother died a few years back,” he tells her but she doesn’t mention that she already knows. That her father actually told her. Months before he had succumbed to his own death.

“I’m sorry too.”

It’s quiet for a few moments and she gazes over his shoulder to the door thinking about how she could make her exit so she wouldn’t have to deal with the unbearable silence. Before she’s able make up an excuse and bolt, Bellamy is bringing her back in.

“Why don’t I buy you another?” he offers, “We can…catchup?”

He says the last word with such hesitance – like it feels weird on his tongue. Probably because they really only spent one day together, it wasn’t like they were friends, but there really wasn’t a part of her that wanted to decline.

“Sure,” she replies, “But you don’t have to buy me another. It was my fault.”

“I told you it’s fine,” he rebukes with a hint of a smirk, “You just want to argue with me again, don’t you?”

She raises her eyebrows at his unexpected response, “Oh God, you remember that?”

“Remember it?” he repeats with a shake of his head, “None of my friends believed me when I told them that a twelve year old had not only read Outlanders but could quote all the vital lines.”

She feels heat fill her cheeks and she silently wishes it’s not noticeable but it’s only a natural reaction when an old “crush” (if she’d allow herself that much) says he’s spoken about her to his _friends_ , “I hope at least one of them agreed with me.”

Now he’s fully smirking as he leans against the marble, “Monty did. I wasn’t surprised though,” he says, “He’s a nerd too.”

Clarke gasps as she uses the back of her hand to smack his arm only causing him to chuckle as she states loudly that she is not a nerd.

“Hey, O,” Bellamy calls out to the girl with the bangs, “Can you get her another one? We kind of had a mishap.” He gestures to his shirt.

O rolls her eyes at him, “Your doing I presume,” before he can say anything, she glances over at Clarke, “I’ll get you another right away.”

Clarke looks back up at Bellamy who’s watching the girl with an entertained expression, “You see that? My sister has no faith in me,” he adds the next part even louder, “Even though I’m the one who got her this job.”

The girl returns quickly, handing over the drink to which Clarke thanks her for, “And I should be gracious for that?”

Bellamy grins, “You love this place, Octavia. Don’t lie.”

Octavia merely rolls her eyes before she turns away. Bellamy signals with his head to the open table in the corner and Clarke follows close behind.

“I had no idea you had a sister,” Clarke says as she takes a seat opposite him.

There’s a sparkle in his eyes, “Just the many things you don’t know about me yet.”

He looks faintly embarrassed by his words as soon as they tumble out of his mouth – she’s pretty sure it’s because it sounded almost _flirtatious_? – but she could just be letting her mind trick her into sensing something that wasn’t there. She was just fifteen and he now twenty.

(She remembers asking her father how old he was on the way back from the docs.)

He surely wasn’t _flirting_ with her.

“Well tell me then,” she smiles, “Do you have any other history novels you recommend?”

Bellamy licks his lips and she sees his amused smile that he tries to hide behind his hand while rubbing his nose, “As much as I’d like to have this debate with you, I’d rather not get into another screaming match in public.”

“It wasn’t a screaming match,” she tells him only for him to give her a look that said he thought otherwise, “Okay fine, I may have gotten a little annoyed that you thought Huck Finn was boring and unclear – what was unclear about it? And _boring_? You –,”

“Clarke,” he cuts her off and now he’s not bothering to hold back his grin.

“Sorry,” she says softly when she notices the few heads she caused to turn, “Are you still working with Marcus?”

Bellamy shakes his head, “Nah, I’m actually in school right now,” he says, “I go in during the summer when he needs me but sailing wasn’t really my thing.”

She bites the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling, “I noticed.”

Bellamy smiles, “Yeah, I bet you did, princess.”

He doesn’t seem to realize the return of the nickname, it must have just slipped, but she does and instead of the irritation she felt the first time he said it she feels her heart flutter. She distracts herself with another sip of her drink.

She asks about what he’s majoring in college and he tells her he’s in between mythology (surprising) and history (not so surprising). He also tells her about how he actually only gotten Octavia the job because he thought it would make her more responsible but now he regrets it cause he has to pick her up from her shifts and actually misses spending their time off together.

Clarke finds it really sweet how much he cares for her, it’s obvious to note the affection laced in his tone when he speaks about his sister. He asks her what she’s doing in the city and she tells him that she was just bored and wanted to draw. He laughs at that ( _you took an hour long train ride to draw?_ ). She stuck out her tongue but ends up handing over her sketch book after his pleads to see it. He looks impressed and she feels a hopeful surge in her chest when he says she’s extremely talented and could make a good career out of her art.

Clarke’s in the middle of a story that involved her friend Raven and _their_ ex-boyfriend (how she ended up on topic like that was beyond her) when they were interrupted.

“You ready to go, Bell?”

The pair look up to see Octavia, her apron off and her hair down looking between them.

Bellamy glances at his watch, “Has it been two hours already?”

Octavia bobs her head once in confirmation and Clarke pushes back in her chair at the same time Bellamy does. They stand around awkwardly for a second before Bellamy sticks out his hand. She’s slightly surprised at the action but she slowly extends her own hand. His is significantly larger than her own and the touch is warm, she shakes it twice and gives him a smile.

“I’ll see you around,” she says even though she’s knows it’s unlikely.

He nods, “Yeah, I’ll see you around.”

She bids a quick goodbye to Octavia who looks pretty amused by her brother. When she’s almost to the door, she can hear her say, ( _What is she, my age?_ ) and his response, ( _Shut up, O_.)

**III**

“Roma, slow down,” Clarke calls after her friend who was frantically flying about, yelling out demands to everyone from the cook to her wedding advisor.

Clarke follows close behind offering her own apologies for her friend’s “bridezilla-ness” as she liked to put it.

“I’m about to lose my damn mind, Clarke,” the girl turns abruptly almost causing Clarke to run into her, “Don’t tell me to calm down.”

Clarke sighs softly as she reaches out to put her hands on Roma’s arms, moving them up and down gently, “You’re doing a great job, everything is going to be fine,” she tells her, “The food for the rehearsal is already made, the bridesmaids have all agreed to the matching shoes, your family is here and tomorrow morning you’ll have the best wedding in the history of weddings.”

Roma digs her teeth into her lower lip, “Clarke…”

“Just breathe, okay?” the blonde finds her hand and squeezes, “Breathe and think about all those gifts you’re going to get.”

Roma cracks a smile at that as she quickly wraps her arms around her, “This is why you’re my maid of honor,” she says into her ear before pulling away, “It’s hard to believe you’re just seventeen.”

Clarke shrugs humbly, she was used to getting comments like that from her. From everybody really. She had met Roma when she was working at the clinic two years ago and they hit it off quickly. She still remembers how shocked Roma was when she mentioned her age, Roma herself was young but still had a four year advance on her.

Roma’s phone buzzes then and when she looks down at the caller ID and beams, Clarke already knows who it is.

“Atom?”

She watches as Roma nods her head and her smile broadens. Clarke feels relief wash over her, she wasn’t going to admit out loud that even she was starting to get nervous for her friend, “ _Yes_ , please come.”

When she says her goodbye, Roma exhales loudly, “He’s on his way.”

Clarke nods her head once before looking around the ballroom where the rehearsal dinner would be taking place in less than a few hours, “You need help with anything else?”

She shakes her head, “Nope. Thank you though, I really appreciate everything you’ve done.”

“It’s no problem, Roma,” she replies and projects her thumb backwards, “I’m just going to head back up to the room –,”

“Oh, don’t leave yet,” she says as she grips her hand, “Atom wants you to meet the best man.”

Clarke agrees reluctantly, she really did just want to go upstairs to their hotel room, take a shower, and wrap herself in the warm cotton robe that the hotel provided while renting a movie before she’d have to head back down again but she wasn’t about to say no to the bride.

She’s arranging the centerpieces (Clarke had suggested blue tulips and was glad Roma decided to go with it) when she heard Atom’s voice accompanied by Roma squealing in delight.

When she turns her head, Atom is making his way towards her, “Clarke! Hey, I wanted to introduce you to a good friend of mine.”

Behind Atom, Roma is leading a tall dark haired man in her direction. It doesn’t register who it is until he lifts his head, chuckling at something Roma said, and meets her gaze. 

Clarke is momentarily stunned by her fate before she takes a tentative step forward, “Bellamy?”

He holds her stare for a second, his lips slightly parted in disbelief and she’s almost sure he’s thinking the same thing as her before his familiar smirk comes into play, “So we meet again, princess.”

She nods slowly, “I guess so.”

Both Atom and Roma look between the pair, who are still watching each other in silence before Roma asks, “How do you guys know each other?”

“We’ve met a couple times before,” Clarke answers drawing her eyes away from his, “It’s been some time since the last.”

“Two years,” Bellamy chimes in, eyes still on her.

She swallows, suddenly feeling self-conscience under his scrutiny which was just ridiculous and she knew it, “Two years,” she repeats, “How’ve you been?”

Roma and Atom take that as their cue to leave after exchanging a curious glance with each other. She hears Roma reprimanding him for wearing his dress shoes when they could “get dirty” before the ceremony as they walk away.

“I’ve been good,” he answers as he pulls out a chair from under the spherical table and takes a seat, “Busy but good. How about you?”

“I’ve been pretty busy myself,” she tells him as she mimics his action and sits as well, “Picking out colleges is stressful.”

Bellamy groans, his head rolling backwards as his fingers pinch the bridge of his nose, “Oh don’t I know it,” he says, “From firsthand experience to helping my sister currently.”

A slow, small smile appears on Clarke’s lips, “How is Octavia?”

He looks genuinely surprised that she remembered her name – as if she could forget a name like _Octavia_ – before going off on a rant about how she wants to be “free” and far from home and he doesn’t understand her _at all_ , he gives Clarke the most baffled look as if to say: why would she want to be away from me? And Clarke deems it the most adorable thing she’s ever witnessed.

Before Clarke can tell him that she’ll probably end up changing her mind (even though she doesn’t know Octavia’s mind set at all – she just figures it would calm him) Roma is at her side.

“We should start getting ready,” she says and Clarke nods as she gets up from her spot as Roma says, “See you later, Bell.”

Bellamy nods at her while raising to a standing position and his eyes find Clarke’s and his gaze lingers before he turns away and she’s trailing right behind the bride to be with her heart in her throat.

**\----**

Clarke applies mascara against her eyelashes as Roma shimmies into her emerald wrap dress that flattered her thin waist before bumping Clarke’s hip gently to get ahold of the mirror. Clarke tries to protest with a whine but Roma only sends her a look that read: _I’m the bride to be here_ and she knows there was no point in arguing. She swats at her butt causing the girl to let out a gasp before she finds her own dress to get into. It was a turquoise blue (the same color as her maid of honor’s dress because Roma had claimed it to be the best color on her) and reached a few inches above her knee. The sleeves were lace and it had a slight dip in the front, keeping it both classy yet sensual.

She’s coating her lips with gloss when she lets herself think about Bellamy once more. She had figured she would never see him again (just like the first time) yet here she was again – here _he_ was again. After their run in at the coffee shop, Clarke thought about going back, maybe a few weeks later so she wouldn’t look too obvious and hope that maybe Octavia would be waged there and she’d lie and say something like “I forgot that you worked here” but it never happened. She had gotten busy with her electives, after school clubs, and her interning that when she finally got a chance to return to the city, the coffee shop was shut down and instead a modern boutique replaced it. Clarke felt a bitter taste in her mouth when she noticed it and refused to go in no matter how crazy the Monday sale was.

There was also a sudden sadness that came along with it too. The coffee place was always something she thought of in hopes to reunite with Bellamy. Hear his stories, cause an entertaining dispute, and make him laugh but all those desires were washed away when she came face to face with reality. Now though – she didn’t know what to think. She never had much faith in fate. _Was_ this fate? Clarke wasn’t about to kid herself. She didn’t believe in star crossed lovers or soul mates of any kind but she was starting to wonder if this was just more than coincidental. She shakes the absurd thoughts from her head before grabbing her clutch from the bed and pinning a few strands of her hair to the side.

“I can’t believe you look hotter than me at my own rehearsal party,” Roma jokingly glares at her as they ride the elevator down.

Clarke rolls her eyes, “Yeah, right.”

“It’s true!” the older girl rebukes, “Clarke, you have the body to die for.”

The blonde could feel her cheeks heating up, she was never good at receiving compliments no matter who they came from but she thanked her quietly and was glad she had a little uplift in her confidence before she stepped back into the ballroom. The lights were dimmer and the party was starting to begin. There was a buffet, music playing, guests dancing, and all around smiles. One glance up at Roma and she could tell that she was reassured. Clarke nudged her towards her mother with her elbow and Roma clasped her shoulder before heading off in the other direction.

Clarke felt slightly out of place, she had met a lot of Roma’s friends but it was usually brief and polite encounters. She also had this nagging feeling that a few of them were pissed that Roma had chosen her as the maid of honor instead of one of them. As much as Clarke was honored to have such a ‘title’ she wouldn’t have mind giving it up, it would have taken a load off her back but with a look towards the bar, she saw Bellamy leaning against it, immersed in conversation with the bartender, she was reminded that he was the best man and she quickly felt the return of appreciativeness towards Roma for being chosen. Feeling slightly brave and having no other option for company she started to walk to him.

Close up she notices how the white dress shirt he was wearing under his suit jacket made his skin look even more tan and the gray slacks were tight around his hips and hugged his —,

“Clarke?”

She snaps her gaze up and prayed to all of the God’s above that he didn’t notice her checking out his butt. (Which by the way looked _very_ firm.)

“Hey,” she greets and curses herself inwardly for sounding so breathy but he doesn’t seem to realize. Instead his eyes were broadened as he took in her appearance.

“You look beautiful,” he says softly.

There’s no mistaking the flush currently present, “Thank you, you don’t look too bad yourself.”

He looks down at his attire, “Ah – this old thing.”

She laughs, grateful for his playful words as she slips onto the stool he’s standing next to. The bartender who’s tall, dark, and handsome (yes, he was the cliché stereotype) smiles in her direction before whipping up another drink. When she turns her attention back to Bellamy he’s staring at the center of the room where Atom was twirling Roma around before dipping her dramatically, Clarke catches herself smiling at the sight.

“Care for a drink, princess?”

Bellamy’s mouth is close to her ear and she almost jumps at his voice, she slowly turns her head towards him, careful to keep their noses from brushing, “I’m underage.”

“I’m well aware,” he responds, “You also looked ready to crack earlier.”

She heaves a sigh, she’s not sure if Bellamy was just good at reading people or she was just a fairly obvious person, “God help me on my own wedding day.”

He chuckles at that, he has one hand in his pants pocket and the other was holding his glass filled with whiskey, “You have time for that.”

“I don’t know,” she hums as she glances back to the engaged couple, “Roma is only twenty one.”

“Yeah,” he sloshes the drink around in his cup before taking a sip, “But you’re only seventeen – doesn’t mean you have to be married four years from now.”

She purses her lips at heaviness of his tone, she looks up at him, “I’ll have what you’re having.”

“Oh no, you couldn’t handle this,” he shakes his head, “How about –,”

“I’ll have what you’re having.”

Bellamy’s eyebrow’s raise before a slow grin appears on his lips, “Yes, your highness.”

He waits for the bartender to finish up with one the guest’s before he orders ‘himself’ another whiskey, she learns that the cute bartender’s name is Nathan but Bellamy keeps referring to him as Miller (she doesn’t understand why but she doesn’t question it). Bellamy excuses himself as he grabs the new glass and sends a subtle wink at Clarke for her to follow. She knows he doesn’t want to get Nathan into trouble if she was caught drinking so she finds him right outside the French doors which lead to a balcony overlooking the beautiful green landscape.

“For you,” he says as he hands over the drink, she thanks him before she takes it from his grip.

She brings the rim of the glass to her lips and takes a timid sip before blanching. At the action, Bellamy ruptures in laughter and she glares at him in return. It wasn’t like this was her first alcoholic beverage. She just wasn’t used to this taste and she hated that he had warned her.

“I told –,”

She holds up her finger to stop him, “Don’t even start.”

He stares at her, the same shit-eating grin placed on those rosy lips before his hands outstretch against the railing and she tries for a second taste. She lets the liquid burn her throat and takes another. She stands next to him, their shoulders touching only slightly and she doesn’t even think to give him more room. They stay like that for a few minutes, the sun slowly drifting down, leaving the sky a pinkish hue. Everything about the scenery was beautiful.

“Maybe we should head back inside,” Bellamy suggests but she doesn’t even glance at him.

Letting her eyes scan the open ground, the trees, the color of the sky, keeping the image locked away in her brain in order to sketch it later.

“You go ahead.”

“Clarke, you’re shivering,” he points out and she looks down at her skin that had pricked with goose bumps due to the breeze.

 “The whiskey will keep me warm.”

She hears him sigh and then there’s some rustling but she’s distracted by the sound of laughter and she gazes down to see a few people running wildly on the ground to notice anything else. They had to be a few years older than her – maybe Roma’s or Bellamy’s age – and there were at least six of them; outwardly looking like they didn’t have a care in the world and she suddenly wishes she was down there with them. She’s brought back to reality when a jacket falls over her shoulders.

She looks behind her at Bellamy before he takes a step forward to his original position, beside her. Clarke brings her fingers up to touch the fabric.

“You didn’t have to,” she says and he shrugs, “You’ll be cold.”

He finds her eyes and smirks as he takes the glass from her and gulps almost half of it down, “The whiskey will keep me warm.”

She rolls her eyes but she’s smiling. The jacket smells like him and with her hands now empty she pulls her arms through the sleeves. It’s way too big on her but it is warm so she tightens it around her petite frame.

“Thank you,” she speaks quietly and he nods back.

“You know, I was starting to think I’d never see you again, Griffin.”

She freezes, every nerve in her body coming alive, she looks up at him only to see him staring out towards the trees, “Me too,” she replies equally as quiet, “It’s weird isn’t it?”

That gets his attention so she explains, “That we keep running into each other randomly after years apart.”

He’s watching her and she almost squirms under his stare.

Clarke’s pretty sure something in the air shifts between them (she’s not sure if that’s an actual plausible thing) but _something_ is different. They stand there staring at each other for seconds – minutes? – she’s trying to read his expression but it’s impassive which frustrates her to no end. Her eyes flicker from his eyes to his mouth, something she never allowed herself to do purposely before this moment, and she doesn’t miss the bob of his adam’s apple when he swallows thickly.

“Clarke…”

“There you guys are!”

Clarke flinches when the door opens abruptly and Roma throws her hands outwards to grab Clarke’s wrist, “I’ve been looking everywhere,” she adds, “We only have the space for another hour – come eat.”

“I’ll be there in a second.” She smiles warmly at her friend even though it feels forced on her lips. Roma only nods as she let’s go and hurries off into the room.

Clarke gently removes his jacket from her body and he takes it with a tilt of his head. She opens her mouth to ask him what he was going to say before they were interrupted but he was already striding forward, throwing his coat under his arm and following in Roma’s direction.

**\---**

She keeps her distance throughout the rest of the night (mostly because Roma was practically at her side the entire time) but Bellamy doesn’t seem to mind since he never approaches her. Clarke can’t help but scan the room for him every now and then though. She spots him once at the bar again, chatting with Nathan, then at one of the table’s where he was speaking to a few people she didn’t recognize, and then once more on the dance floor. He held one of Roma’s bridesmaid’s close while they swayed, Clarke’s pretty sure her name is Echo and she hates that she feels something bubbling deep inside her – something very similar to jealousy. She already wants to dislike the girl but she knows it’s unfair and impolite even if it’s just in her thoughts. Also Echo was one of the few people who made an effort with Clarke.

She catches his eye over Echo’s head when she’s walking towards Roma’s table and her breath catches in her throat, he doesn’t break contact once while she passes around the area of dancers. Clarke is the one who looks away first as she places her plate down before taking her seat. She listens to the speeches from both the groom’s and bride’s parents and feels herself growing nervous for her own speech come tomorrow evening at the wedding reception. She distracts herself with the food in front of her and even let’s Roma drag her to the floor when an upbeat pop song starts to play. She’s grateful for the fact that Bellamy seemed to have disappeared (even more grateful when she sees Echo in the far corner and she knows he’s probably alone.)

It’s not until everyone is saying their goodbye’s (more like see you later’s) and she’s helping the staff clean up that they speak again. He’s hovering over her as she sweeps off the last of the crumbs on the table, she pretends she doesn’t know he’s there, her back was to him so it was realistic enough, she thinks. But once she straightens and their arms brush, she knows she can’t ignore him any longer. She’s not entirely sure why she even wants to.

“You do realize they’re hired to do these things, right?” his teasing manner has him grinning but she just shrugs as she walks to the trash with him trailing close behind, “Hey, what’s up with you?”

She spins at the question, “What’s up with me?” she repeats, “What’s up with _you_? You’re the one acting weird.”

Bellamy’s eyebrows dip low, “No, I’m not.”

She crosses her arms over her chest, “Really?” She hardly believes she was just imagining the…tension before.

Bellamy does a good job (as always) holding her gaze, his tongue leisurely (and torturously) lick his lips before he’s shaking his head, “Really,” he concludes, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

**\---**

She does of course, see him tomorrow. When she awoke to Roma yelling “it’s my wedding day!” she mentally kicked herself for thinking about Bellamy – wearing a new suit, standing behind Atom at the altar, all together just driving her insane by being so close. After getting herself ready in her strapless dress that came all the way down to the floor and had a slit starting from the middle of her thigh to the ankle, she helps Roma into her wedding gown along with the rest of the bridesmaid, they all coo over how beautiful she looks and she does. She looks absolutely stunning in her simple designer dress. The wedding was outdoors, on the lawn that Clarke and Bellamy were looking out at last night.

Everything seems to happen so fast because before she knows it she’s standing with Roma inside the little hut set out of view from the crowd of guests.

“ _God_ , this is it,” Roma exhales loudly as she peeks her head through the flaps.

Clarke smiles as she grasps her friend’s hand, “Just don’t fall, okay?”

Roma gasps and playfully shoves her shoulder, “Don’t even joke about that.”

Clarke laughs in response as Roma’s father finds them.

“See you over there,” Clarke whispers before heading onto the grass and towards the aisle.

As soon as everyone’s eyes are trained on her she feels anxious. She has the urge to look away and quickly shuffle down the aisle but she knows that would be completely ill-mannered and not very maid of honor-ish. So instead she holds her head high and her eyes find Bellamy’s. She wants to laugh because – _how_? – how was it possible to look _that_ good? His broad shoulders stretch visibly through the material as he claps his hands together in front of him, his skin looks even darker in the morning light, and his chocolate colored orbs are boring right into hers.

She forgets how to breathe for a second – maybe even two. She doesn’t draw away from his gaze though, as much as it made her heart race, it was also strangely comforting. She sees the upturn of his lips and she can’t help but smile. It’s directed at him and he knows it but she just hopes nobody else realizes she’s all but drooling over him. She finally reaches the end of the alter, Atom gives her a smile at the same time Bellamy winks. She returns both before stepping further to the side as everyone rises to their feet at the sound of the music changing to: Here Comes the Bride.

Clarke heart swells at the sight of her friend walking down the aisle, her arm locked tightly with her father’s whose eyes were noticeably wet already. She glances over at Atom who’s staring at her like she hung the moon before her eyes fall back to the best man who’s already looking at her. She immediately averts her eyes this time, her body buzzing with a mix of excitement and wonder. It takes all her willpower not to look back over at him and instead she seizes the flowers from her friend’s hands and watches as the couple grin at each other as the minister begins.

She keeps her focus on the pair, feeling slightly teary-eyed at their beautifully spoken vows and love filled looks. Then they’re lifting their joined hands in the air as the guests around applaud and pop confetti (Roma had decided against rice – _they kill the birds_ , she yelled.)

Clarke has to admit she did a pretty damn well job at avoiding his gaze. That is until she steps forward after Roma and Atom and next to Bellamy who’s grinning at her, she nudges him slightly before their arms link. His hand comes to rest on top of hers from where it wraps around his bicep and the gesture is so intimate it causes her to snap her neck up to look at him but he’s no longer watching her. When they reach Roma and Atom, they move apart and instead take their positions beside their friends along with the other groomsmen and bridesmaids while a couple of photographers snap their pictures.

She wasn’t much for pictures. Instead she usually opted to take them. She knew how many times she annoyed Wells when it came to her camera – simply explaining it was ‘the artist in her’.

“Now a few pictures of the matron of honor and the best man,” the male photographer calls out and Clarke looks over her shoulder at Bellamy. He doesn’t seem to feel her gaze on him, only pats Atom on the shoulders and steps forward to where the photographer was pointing, “Okay, huddle close.”

Clarke grips the bouquet in her hand tightly as Bellamy glances down at her before slowly wrapping an arm around her waist. She does her best to calm her racing heart and hope’s she’s not as stiff as she’s feeling.

“Now give me a good smile,” he instructs, “Oh come on, blondie, you can do better than that! Pretend you two like each other – just a _little_ bit.”

Clarke feels her cheeks flare up due to embarrassment when she hears Bellamy’s low chuckling as he pulls her closer, “Yeah, come on, blondie,” he whispers against the shell of her ear.

She doesn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her flushed (which was _not_ because of his touch by the way), instead she flashes a bright toothy grin and leans into his chest, _he smells even better today_ , she thinks. His fingers tighten over her hip as she drapes an arm over his abdomen, half hugging him. It’s a bold move but it gets the photographer’s eyes to light up and exclaim, “Perfect! Don’t move!” 

Bellamy squeezes her side and she almost gasps at the action but fortunately enough for her, she manages to keep it from escaping her lips. There are quick flashes, the photographer buzzing around, and Clarke managing to keep a smile throughout the whole forty eight seconds.

“Okay,” he looks down at the screen of his camera, “These look wonderful.”

She unravels herself from his hold to catch up with the rest of the wedding party when Bellamy points at the photographer and says, “Make sure I get those.”

\---

Once Clarke reenters the ballroom, she stands off to the side and waits for the MC to announce Roma and Atom’s name so she, along with the rest of their friends and family can watch as they have their first dance as husband and wife but when the doors open up, it’s Bellamy sauntering in. It’s as if he has some sort of tracker on her because it takes a little less than twenty seconds for him to notice her. She glances down, picking at her nails as he slides up beside her.

“You ready for your speech?” he asks as he jolts her arm with his elbow.

Her heart beats wildly at the thought of all those eyes back on her again, this time she’d actually have to be speaking instead of walking in a straight line.

“Of course,” she lies.

She glances up at him to see him smirking but his eyes are directed towards the entrance. She opens her mouth to speak, she’s not exactly sure what she was going to say, but before any words can form, the lights dim to get everyone’s attention. Excitement buzzes through the air as the host grins as he grips the microphone.

“Ladies and gentleman,” he begins, “Few things I’d like to say before we get to introducing the new and beautiful couple. First, my name is Jasper – Jasper Jordan,” he mockingly bows, “Second, we have an open bar right over there,” he points to his right and there’s an echo of whoops from the guests, “Third, I want to see all of you up on the dance floor for the rest of the night after the bride and groom’s first dance – yes that includes you Grandma Dorothy.”

Clarke cracks a grin while the others laugh, she smiles a little wider when she hears Bellamy’s low, deep chuckle.

“Okay, let’s get this party started!” he shouts with a fist pumped into the air. Clarke’s pretty sure he was made for this kind of gig, “Now everyone give a warm welcome to the new Mr. and Mrs. Ward!”

Bellamy places two fingers into his mouth and whistles and Clarke is bouncing on her toes as she claps her hands loudly while the doors open to reveal the couple. Their hands interlocked and held up over their heads again as they make their way into the room. Atom drapes his arm around her waist as he stops them in the middle of the floor. Everyone gives them enough space for them to dance freely as they circle the perimeter.

_A Thousand Years_ starts to play and Clarke wills herself not to cry at how wrapped up they look in each other. She lets a tear fall when she notices Roma beaming at him, her fingers casing tightly over his shoulder as he says something into her ear that makes her laugh. She can’t help it. She lets a tear fall.

“Such a softie,” Bellamy whispers as he hands her a tissue that she’s not exactly sure where he’d gotten from but takes it hurriedly.

“Shut up,” she mutters before looking up to see that he’s smiling down at her. Soft and sweet. Her stomach flips. She hates it.

She’s wiping under her eyes gently, hoping she’s not ruining any of her makeup, when she hears the song start to come to an end. Atom presses a kiss to her temple as the guests around them smile broadly and wipe at their own tears. The music switches to something much more upbeat and she watches as Roma starts pulling at her friend’s hands and dragging them to the middle of the dance floor. Clarke takes a step back, out of view. She wasn’t ready to dance just yet. Bellamy notices of course, smirking to himself, as he watches her dip out.

She finds herself at the bar, grateful for the fact that there’s another semi recognizable face there.

“Hi, Nathan,” she greets as she takes a seat on the stool.

Miller looks up from the drink he’s making to smile at her, “Clarke, you look very nice.”

She beams brightly, “Thank you,” with a look over her shoulder she observes the guests either talking, eating, dancing before turning her head back to him. “Could I have something to drink?”

He immediately picks up on her sly tone and raises his eyebrows, “You got an ID?”

Clarke pouts, “Oh come on, Roma is probably going to order a round of shots for me alone just to get me out there,” she juts her thumb backwards. “I won’t get you into trouble anyways, nobody will question me, I could pass for twenty one.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” a gruff voice speaks beside her.

She doesn’t have to look to know who it belongs to. Bellamy slides his hand over the bar, “Do the girl a favor, she needs to loosen up before her speech.”

Clarke scowls at him, “Do not.”

He ignores her as he orders himself a beer but her mood is immediately turned around when Nathan nods at her, “What would you like?”

“A long island iced tea,” she grins. It takes less than a minute for the man to slide her the new drink which she sips quickly. From the corner of her eye she can see Bellamy staring at her, face inquisitive, his elbows propped up against the wood of the bar. She gives him a hard look, “What?”

“No whiskey this time?”

Her eyes fall down to her fingers where they played at the plastic straw, “Not yet.”

\---

When the time comes for the actual speeches, Clarke’s heart is thrashing so wildly she can hear it pumping hotly in her ears. She’s sitting at the circular table with Atom, Roma, Bellamy, and the rest of the bridesmaids and groomsmen when Jasper approaches them with the microphone in hand. She lets out a = breath of relief when it goes to Bellamy first who stands from his seat, shoulders relaxed, and a smile on his face. She’s completely envious.

“Excuse me everyone, I’d like to take a few minutes of your time to say a few words about the bride and the groom,” he begins and almost instantly he has everyone’s attention, “I’m Bellamy Blake and I’ve been friends with Atom here since I was ten years old and I had the pleasure of meeting Roma when I was nineteen and Atom brought her to one of our boxing classes where she presumably kicked my ass.”

The crowd erupts in laughter and Clarke watches with attentiveness at how easily he’s able to captivate an audience. She’s not even going to deny the fact that she’s equally absorbed. Atom is chuckling as he wraps an arm around Roma’s shoulders as she grins.

“It’s true,” he shrugs, “And when she stepped into the ring against Atom and didn’t take it any easier on him and had him pinned in under a minute – sorry, man,” he shoots Atom a look to which the man jokingly glares at the revealed secret, “I knew they were meant to be. In fact, I may have known before that when Atom actually _blushed_ whenever he got so much as a text from her. I gave him hell for it at the time but now I wish that I had that kind of love in my life,” Clarke’s pretty sure he has half the women swooning over him at that moment, “So let’s raise our glasses,” he picks up his champagne flute along with everyone else, “And wish these two a lifetime of happiness.”

There’s a boom of applause and both Atom and Roma rise to their feet to hug and thank him for his kind words. Quiet chatter surrounds her as she hesitantly stands as well.

Bellamy hands over the mic, “Looking to you, princess.”

She does her best not to glare at him since the buzz around the room was slowly dying down and everyone had returned their attention to the next speaker. Her. She repeats Bellamy’s speech in her head. Sweet, short, and simple, she reminds herself.

“Uh, hi everyone, I’m Clarke,” she starts, her voice slightly uneven and she mentally chastises herself for it, “I want to start off thanking both the bride and groom and their parents for this joyous occasion,” she chances a look around the room to see soft smiles and lifted glasses, _don’t screw this up,_ she repeats in her head before she continues, “When I started working at the clinic Roma was working at, I was only fifteen and I was nervous as hell. Especially being around our boss, Indra,” she finds Roma’s eyes and the girl is smirking in their knowing way.

“Yeah…she wasn’t very easy going,” that gets a couple laughs and Clarke finds a bit more courage in herself, “And one night I was late and Indra was _pissed_. She yelled at me for a good ten minutes before Roma walked by – at the time I didn’t even know her name – and took the blame. Saying she had asked me to run her an errand,” she meets Roma’s eyes again, “You guys really don’t know Indra – I owe Roma my life for that one.”

More laughter.

“I knew right then and there what kind of person she was. She was good. Unfortunately there aren’t a lot of them around. I learned about Atom pretty quickly. Whenever Roma came in all doe eyed and flushed cheeks, I knew who she was with right before,” she notices how Roma blushes and Atom grins, “Atom stopped by work all the time. He’d bring us both lunch and ask us how our day was and always left with a kiss on Roma’s cheek and I just knew that they were meant to be. The delicate but lingering touches and gazes, the smiles, the laughter. In a way, I think they give me hope. That true love is not just fairytales and movies,” she raises her flute a bit higher, “To true love.”

The crowd echoes, “To true love.”

Clarke gulps down a mouthful before Roma wraps her up into a death grip, whispering how much she loves her in her hair. Clarke giggles before she pulls away with one last thank you and plops down into her seat with a loud exhale.

“You did well.”

She looks over at Bellamy, “I rambled.”

He shakes his head, a smirk appearing on his lips before he repeats, “You did well.”

\---

“Don’t look now but one of Atom’s friends is checking you out.”

He can’t help but laugh when she ignores his instructions and instead takes a glimpse around the room. Trying to spot the friend.

“Who?” she questions when she doesn’t catch anyone’s eye.

Bellamy leans forward, his back towards the rest of the crowd and his forearms resting against the wood of the bar. She mimics his pose.

“Okay, I’ll tell you who if you promise to be subtle.”

She frowns, “I thought I was.”

Bellamy chuckles again, finding her adorable as ever, “Don’t turn around, okay?” when she gives him a solid nod, he continues, “She’s sitting at table eight, brunette, and probably not your type.”

Her eyebrows furrow before she slowly turns her head, doing the whole stretch of the arm thing which wasn’t at _all_ subtle. Bellamy rolls his eyes

“I think she’s cute,” she comments when she returns her attention back to him, “Why wouldn’t she be my type?”

Bellamy looks at her, “She’s like twenty two or something and not the friendliest.”

There’s a pause, the brunette glances up every so often at them, and Bellamy watches in amusement as Clarke has an internal debate with herself.

“I bet I can get her number,” she says causing Bellamy to scoff.

“ _I_ bet that’s the alcohol talking,” he retorts as he brings the rim of his glass to his lips.

Clarke’s head tilts and she deliberately sticks her lower lip out, “You doubt me?”

Bellamy sets his drink down behind him, “Look, princess, I know you’re used to batting those pretty eyes at the kids in your school and they probably bend over backwards just to get you to smile at them but her,” he diverts his eyes to the woman, “She has a _very_ tough shell to put it mildly. Believe me, I had the pleasure of finding out the hard way.”

Clarke watches him for a second and he raises his eyebrows.

“Give me five minutes,” she says before downing the rest of her drink and heading towards her target. She puts a little more sway in her hips because she knows he’s watching.

Bellamy’s shakes his head to himself. He leans against the bar to ask Miller about the game last night that he missed after trying to calm Atom down when he was up in the middle of the night, pacing back and forth in their room, wondering out loud if he was actually ready to get married. When he casts his attention back to the couple, he sees Clarke throwing her head back, laughing. He also notices the way Lexa is watching her with a smile on her face. A _smile_. He was pretty sure up until this moment that the girl was incapable of showing emotion.

Clarke returns only a few minutes after her time limit, he’s still at the bar with a new drink in hand when she mockingly throws her hair over her shoulder.

“You got it?” he asks, not even hiding his surprise.

She glances back to see that the woman had ditched her table and was no longer in their line of vision. Clarke hands over her cell with the new contact. Lexa’s name next to a blushing emoji.

“I got it.”

She orders a coke this time when Bellamy hands her back the phone.

“She’s a little old for you, don’t you think?” he questions as she brings the mini straw to her lips.

Clarke looks up at him, her blue eyes piercing into his brown ones, “No, I don’t.”

Bellamy holds her stare, his glass stilling midair before it could reach his mouth and then he’s looking away, “Careful, princess.”

 She watches his profile as he takes another sip, “I always am.”

\---

Clarke’s pretty sure with the few pitied looks thrown her way throughout the night, she was sure she was being viewed as a borderline alcoholic who had just been dumped with how much time she spent by the bar but it wasn’t her fault. She wasn’t much for socializing with strangers and Nathan was good company. Only smiling or speaking when needed while tending to the other guests. She was his favorite though – she could tell – she did tip him well after all. She was sipping on her previous drink, warm champagne that still made her throat hot, and swiveling around on the bar stool when someone steps in front of her.

“Dance with me?”

Clarke looks up through her lashes to see Bellamy’s outstretched hand. She puts down the champagne glass onto the bar silently and slides her own hand into his. He gives her a small smile as his thumb brushes against her pinky, she looks down at their interlocked hands before he stops in the middle of the dance floor. She pauses before wrapping her arms around his neck and his hands move to her waist. They sway to the music for a few seconds and Clarke keeps her eyes trained over his shoulder.

He must notice because he pulls her closer so that her body is flush against his. She prays that he can’t feel her heart racing with their closeness and when her eyes whip up to meet his, he looks slightly concerned.

“You okay?”

“Fine,” she responds as the pads of her fingers gently touch the ends of his curls, pleased to find out that it felt as soft as it looked, before they trail lightly down the nape of his neck.

When she peers back up at him, his eyes are noticeably darker and the look of concern has disappeared, instead replaced by something more serious…something like desire. She swallows her surprise and his hand splays against the small of her back.

“Fine?” he echoes against her ear, his voice quiet and rough.

His words reverberate against her skin and she nearly shivers in his arms.

Her nails trace the line of his collarbone that is exposed to her due to the fact that he ditched his jacket and popped off the top buttons of his dress shirt. She doesn’t miss the muffled sound that comes from the back of his throat.

“Clarke,” his voice is much lower, husky, almost a whisper. She wants to hear it again. And again.

“Bellamy,” she replies, her eyes shifting from her finger to his own eyes.

“You’re really killing me here, princess.”

Her eyes are wide with feign innocence, “How so?”

Bellamy tilts his head to the side to express that she wasn’t fooling anyone, “You know how.”

Feeling a bit more daring, she brings her thumb up to lightly trace his cheek bone. Bellamy’s eyes flutter close, leaning into her touch.

“Want to get out of here?”

His eyes snap open at her offer. He stops their dancing and suddenly Clarke’s mouth grows dry from anxiousness.

His voice sounds almost strained when he says, “Clarke, I can’t.”

The rejection stings when he gently pulls her hand from his face. She swallows hard and takes a step back.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs.

His apology doesn’t really help but she does her best to mask her emotions and just shakes her head, “Don’t be.”

“It’s just –,”

“It’s fine,” Clarke really just wants him to stop speaking, “You’re not into me that way.”

“No!” His outburst causes him to check around him, as if he just realized where they were. “Follow me.”

She wants to refuse but she doesn’t have it in her to deny him like he did her moments ago. So she lets his fingers circle her wrist, and trails behind him as he led them out towards the balcony. She does wretch her hand away though as soon as they step out into the warm air.

“I appreciate the fact that you don’t want to reject me in front of everyone but –,”

“Clarke, _please_ shut up.”

She gapes at him, “Excuse me?”

Bellamy looks almost as frustrated as she feels, running a hand through his already disheveled hair, “You don’t understand.”

She throws her hands up in the air, “Understand what?”

“I’m attracted to you, Clarke,” she barley has any time to process his words because he’s quick to continue, “In every way. You are the most beautiful, talented, frustratingly brilliant girl I have ever met.”

He’s silent now, gauging her reaction. Her eyes are wide, her lips are parted, and her cheeks are red. Stunned is what she’d label her current emotion.

“Then what’s the problem?” she manages to whisper.

He sighs, his shoulders sinking faintly, “The problem is that you’re seventeen and I’m twenty three. I mean for Christ’s sake, you’re my sister’s age and if one of my friend’s tried anything with her I’d –,”                                                                                                                                              

“Okay,” her voice is slightly higher than intended when she cut off his rambling, she takes half a breath to regain her standard tone before continuing, “I get it.”

Bellamy levels her with a stare, “Do you?”

She nods once, trying to calm the flips in her stomach, “Yeah, I do.”

Inside the ballroom, she can hear the party winding down. The MC announcing that they were drawing to a close and to celebrate with one last dance.

Clarke knew even in her own fantasies, her and Bellamy would not work. She was young and naive where he was mature and knowing. He was currently living somewhere in North Carolina (just starting his first year at his new university) where she’d be applying to her dream school, Stanford which was all the way out in California.

“Maybe one day.”

She looks up at him. His eyes are soft and warm and she wishes things were different.

“Maybe,” she agrees. She knows she should head back inside, have that last dance with Roma but she can’t move away, “If we meet again.”

“We’re going to leave this up to luck?”

There’s amusement laced in his tone and she can’t help but smile.

After a moment she steps up on her toes, pressing her lips against his cheek for a few seconds, she feels his hand crawl up her back and squeezes her close and she whispers in his ear, “May we meet again.”

Before she could get far, his hand reaches out to grab at her fingers causing her to look back at him, “May we meet again.”

Six months later when she’s packed all her stuff and was heading to California, she remembers the night clearly and her gut twists at the thought of never seeing him again.

**\+ I**

Clarke is flipping through her mail as she rides the elevator up to her floor. She’s still in her lab coat from her biology exam she had just taken. The smell of sweat and deceased pig fills her senses in the small space and based on the glances she had received from one of the other attendants of the apartment, she must have looked a wreck as well. She’s too busy daydreaming of her soon to be shower she almost misses a familiar name on the corner of an envelope. Roma’s name. The elevator dings to signal her arrival at her stop, she hurriedly escapes the metal box before searching through her bag for her keys to unlock her door. As soon as she’s in her apartment, she throws off her coat but forgets the shower. Instead she opts to open the envelope. Her eyes scanning the card.

_Roma and Atom’s Five Year Wedding Anniversary_ , it read in bright pink letters.

She could hardly believe it had been _five_ years already. She recalled the memories of their wedding day with a bittersweet smile. Bellamy Blake finding his way right back into her heart without any contact in the last 1,826 or so days. Even though it had been a long time, she never forgot about the boy she met on the sailboat with her father who turned out to be the man that had made her young heart race and she still currently thought about whenever she passed a MUGS coffee shop or a book store that was displaying a history novel in the windows. She had her fair share of relationships since that night she bid him goodbye but not any of which that ended well. She placed the letter onto the table before walking over to the phone and dialing her friend’s number.

“Clarke!” Roma greets her on the other line, “How are you, pretty lady?”

After setting into college, she’d been so consumed with her work, she didn’t let her mine linger on Bellamy. At least not at first. Some days she wanted to call Roma, ask for his number, and forget all about luck and destiny because it wasn’t real – but then she’d think that if Bellamy wanted to find her, if he stopped looking at her as a little girl, he would.

“I’m good. I just got your letter,” she answers as she traces the F in Five.

“I hope you’re calling to tell me you’ll be coming,” she says and Clarke can hear voices in the background, “I know California is the nicest this time of year but I miss you. We all do.”

Clarke smiles, “I miss you too,” she reads the date again, exactly a week from today, hosted at Roma and Atom’s house, “I’ll be there.”

\---

She flies out three days later and is practically consumed with her mother’s hugs throughout the following days. Clarke didn’t get a lot of time to come home with being a pre-med student and all so whenever she did, her mother was nearly hovering her every movement. She was pretty sure she watched her sleep half the time but Clarke never questioned it. She wasn’t fond of the distance between them either but Abby kept busy. Working long hours at the hospital just so she wouldn’t have to stay in their large house alone. Clarke almost remained in town for that sole reason but her mother wouldn’t have any of it. Simply stating that she was a ‘big girl’ and could handle her daughter going to school many, many miles away.

But when Clarke had mentioned that after the following year, she’d be coming home for good to start her residency, her mother cried of joy which only served to conclude that she made the right decision. She liked California but this was home.

The day of the wedding anniversary, Clarke had laid out at least ten different outfits and dresses on her bed. Her mother was perched on the edge of her desk watching with slight amusement as Clarke held up a blue blouse to her chest as she examined herself in the mirror.

“Who’s the guy?”

Clarke snaps her head towards her mother, the question taking her off guard.

She places the shirt back down, “What are you talking about?”

“I have never seen you stress about what to wear before,” Abby says, “There has to be a guy or girl.”

“I am not stressing,” Clarke mumbles, halfheartedly causing her mother to laugh.

“Mhmm,” Abby hums in disbelief as she gets up to grab the white sun dress that was off to the side, “This will look nice with your tan.”

Clarke smiles as she takes the dress from her hand, it was simple, sleeveless and came down a few inches above her knees. She thanks her and Abby leaves after a press of her lips to her daughter’s temple. Clarke wastes no time stripping off her clothes and slipping on the dress, matching it with a pair of silver sandals.

She did her best not to think about seeing Bellamy after all these years but realized she was failing miserably when she burnt her wrist with the curling iron mid-daydream.

\---

She only knocks twice before the door is thrown open and she’s met with Roma’s beaming face. Her hair is shorter than the last time she’s seen her which had to be over a year ago. Her eyes are still bright and her smile is just as warm.

“It’s so good to see you.” She says as she pulls her into an embrace that Clarke returns quickly. “Look at you! You look amazing.”

“As do you,” she grins and Roma waves her hand as if to dismiss her compliment.

“Look who it is,” she hears a voice say and she peeks over to her right to spot Atom with little Haley Ward in his arms.

“Auntie Clarke,” Haley exclaims, wiggling out of her father’s grasp.

Clarke smiles brightly as she takes her from him while simultaneously exchanging a one arm hug with Atom.

“I’m glad you made it,” he tells her, “How’s school?”

Clarke props Haley up on her hip with a sigh, “Keeping me busy,” she answers, “But at least my exams are over and next year will be my last before I start rotations.”

“We’re proud of you,” Roma says and Atom nods.

Clarke rolls her eyes playfully, a blush creeping up her neck, “Thanks mom and dad. Now go off and mingle. This is your party, remember?”

The couple chuckles before promising to catch up later. Clarke moves towards the living room, saying hello to a few recognizable faces but mostly she just entertains the toddler in her arms with funny faces and kisses against her nose, cheeks, and forehead.

Clarke curls a piece of Haley’s hair behind her ear as the young girl circles her arms tighter around her neck. She almost melts at the affection. She could see Roma and Atom standing by the entrance, greeting their guests as they continued to pile into their home. Every flash of dark hair causes her heart to sputter before it regains its normal pattern when she realizes it wasn’t who she thought. She was fully aware that she was being borderline pathetic at this point. It was her own idea for them never to call each other, to see if fate really wanted them to be together. She wasn’t even one to believe in that kind of thing until he came along. She didn’t even know if he was coming, if he was even still friends with Roma and Atom, she could just be –,

“Princess?”

She spun around, almost forgetting about the child in her arms until she giggled with delight at her quick movements. Clarke’s eyes widen at the sight of him. His hair curly, unruly, and half covered with a beanie, a bottle of beer in his hand and his dark purple shirt (that hugged his arms) were rolled up to his elbows. He seemed to mimic her reaction, shock clearly sketched across his face.

Finding her voice, she manages a whisper, “Hi.”

There was a beat, silence, she was pretty sure he could hear her heart hammering in her chest before the corner of his lips quirk up and his features soften, “Hi.”

“Uncle Bell!”

Bellamy looks down at Haley, surprise flashing in his eyes for a moment at her presence before his face breaks out into a grin, “Hi Hales,” he reaches out his arms, glancing up at Clarke for a second before she hands her over.

She watches as Bellamy presses a kiss to the top of her head before asking her how she was. Haley looked absolutely elated to be in his arms (Clarke didn’t blame her – it was a nice place to be).

She couldn’t even begin to process her thoughts, her face already feeling hot even with the AC on full blast. She barley even registers that he had set Haley down for her to run off to another family member until he took a step closer. Clarke lifts her head to meet his gaze.

“It’s so good to see you again,” he tells her, his voice quiet and it really doesn’t surprise her that her body reacts the same way it did years ago.

“You too,” she replies, equally as soft.

Bellamy takes the time to actually observe her outfit. His eyes traveling from her shoes, lingering on her exposed legs, before they find her own eyes again. Her skin feels hot.

“You’ve…grown.”

Clarke bites at her lower lips before responding, “Still short?”

He smirks at her reference to his comment almost seven years prior.

“But you’ll get there,” he finishes and her heart thrashes because he _remembered_. She blinks repeatedly in surprise, “Care for a drink?”

She nods, “This time I’m not underage,” she jokes as she follows him towards the kitchen.

He glances at her and quietly mumbles to himself, though Clarke hears him fine, “I’m very aware.”

When he hands her a beer, he nods toward the front entrance and they make their way out onto the porch. Taking a seat on the two cushioned seats provided. She could hear the music playing inside the house as she takes a sip of her cold beverage.

“How’s California?” he asks, breaking the unbearable silence.

“It’s good,” she answers, “How’s North Carolina?”

“It’s good,” and she knows he only repeated her response to make her roll her eyes which she does and he chuckles. “Nah, it really was nice.”

“Was?”

He leans back in his seat, “I moved back months ago after getting my teaching degree. I kind of missed it here even though I wasn’t far.”

Clarke raises an eyebrow, “And?”

“I have a meeting with the Ark’s school board in August,” he tells her with a one shoulder shrug as if it was nothing, “They have a spot open for a history professor.”

“Bellamy, that’s amazing!” she leans over to squeeze his arm.

The action causes him to smile, bright and beautiful, just like she recalled, “Well what about you? How’s the doctor thing going?”

Clarke lets out a laugh at that, “The doctor _thing_ is stressful but worth it. Knowing that I’ll be able to help the people who need me,” she says and doesn’t miss the way his eyes soften at her words as he watches her with admiration. “I mean I won’t be able to help everyone…”

“Nobody can.”

She shoots him a timid smile, “Yeah,” she agrees, “I also missed it here. I’m going to start my residency at the hospital my mother works at.”

“Well I wish you all the luck, Clarke Griffin.”

She clinks his bottle with hers, “I wish the same, Bellamy Blake.”

They exchange a smile before they take another swig.

“So, how’s Octavia?” she asks and her heart flutters when his eyes brighten at the sound of her name.

“She’s doing good, really good right now,” he slips his phone from his pocket and unlocks it. Scrolling through a message before showing her a picture of Octavia who looked almost unrecognizable as the girl she’d seen at the coffee shop. Her hair was braided and pulled back, she gained a couple inches, and she looked very mature and beautiful. She was also standing next to a tall, dark, bald man with tattoo’s running up his arm, surfboards propped against each of their sides as they stood smiling for the picture on a beach with white sand a clear blue water.

“Where is she?” she asks as she scrolls to the right to see a selfie of just her, wet suit on and tongue stuck out.

“Hawaii,” he answers with a roll of his eyes as he places his phone back into his pocket, “Lucky brat.”

Clarke laughs, her cheeks feeling warm with the alcohol, “And the guy?”

“Her boyfriend,” he replies, “Of two years.”

“And he got the Bellamy approval?”

He grins, “Took him awhile but yes, he did.”

Clarke nods at that. Settling into her seat again.

“What about you?” he questions and her eyebrows furrow.

“What about me?”

“Any boyfriends? Girlfriends? Both?” he’s smirking like he’s teasing but his eyes give away that he’s genuinely curious.

Clarke makes him wait a few seconds for an answer as she takes a long sip of her drink, “Not at the moment. No. You?”

When she looks over at him, he’s shaking his head, “Me either.”

She’s not sure what she should say next so she keeps quiet and so does he. The silence isn’t uncomfortable though so she welcomes it. The sound of the music and crickets in the darkness is the only thing heard for minutes.

“I thought about calling you so many times,” he confesses, his tone gentle, almost sheepish, taking her by surprise, “God, if I had a dollar every time I thought to look you up,” he shakes his head as he raises his beer in the air, “I’d be a rich man.”

Clarke purses her lips, “Why didn’t you?”

Bellamy looks over at her sharply, “I thought you didn’t want me to.”

She can’t help but crack a grin at that, she imitates his actions, tipping her own beer to him, “I thought the same.”

Bellamy places the bottle down on the table that’s a few feet away from them and leans forward with his elbows on his knees, “We could have saved ourselves a couple years, princess.”

Clarke leans forward as well, “Saved ourselves a couple years for what?”

His tongue darts out to lick his lips and her gaze immediately falls to his mouth. Heat pooling low in her belly due to the many thoughts she had of _that_ mouth. His eyes are darker and hooded as they regain their staring match. She’s pretty sure she had a similar expression as they remained silent.

“Fucking hell,” he growls before he’s surging out of his seat and towards hers. He bends his head down and his hands go to cradle her face as he presses his lips to hers.

Clarke is stunned at the contact, freezing for a brief moment before she’s responding. Surprisingly enough with all the built up tension they’ve had the kiss is slow and soft. Gentle and sweet. She brings a hand up to cover one of his. Bellamy’s thumb lazily rubs circles against her cheek and it causes her to sigh. He makes a low grunt sound that brings her head out of the blissful state and powers her into something else.

She pushes at his chest and he immediately takes half a step back, still crouched over, eyes wide, and an apology on his lips but before any words can form, she’s standing and pulling him behind the house, shoving him against the wall. Clarke only takes a second to feel dominant over his surprised face before she’s kissing him again. This time it’s rough and fast. She can feel their teeth clash before they find their rhythm. Bellamy’s hands grip at her waist as she presses him more firmly against the wall.

Her fingers lace in his curls and whips his beanie off, neither one of them caring where it fell. Suddenly his hands are under her thighs and she’s hoisted up, her legs wrapping instinctively around his waist as he flips them around so it’s her back against the wall. Her dress slides up her thighs and she moans when Bellamy’s large hands comes to cradle them. Much to her dismay, he pulls back slightly.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he breathes against her lips.

“I think I do,” she replies, panting slightly, “I’m pretty sure I’ve wanted it longer.”

Bellamy leans his forehead against hers, the warm air they’re exhaling mingling, She watches as his eyelids flutter open and her hand comes up to stroke his cheek.

She doesn’t want to ruin it, she wishes she could pause this moment, keep it this way forever but she can’t help whispering, “What does this mean?”

Her back is starting to twinge with minor pain against the wall when she doesn’t have the kiss to focus on but Bellamy still had a tight grip on her thighs so she doesn’t really mind.

He pulls his head back so he could stare at her straight on, “This sure as hell means I’m not leaving here without your number.”

Clarke can’t help but laugh, it’s slightly breathy due to her lungs still refilling with air from that kiss, “Yeah? You don’t want to wait and see if we run into each other in a book store or park?”

Bellamy shakes his head before he’s leaning forward again, slowly, his lips come to brush against her neck and Clarke almost gasps.

“I’d much rather just go with you to those places,” he murmurs against her skin.

Clarke rolls her head back against the brick to give him more access, “I think that could be arranged.”

She can feel his grin before he presses a solid kiss to the base of her throat.

“How long are you here for?” Bellamy asks as he withdraws from her again. This time he releases his hold on her and her legs feel like gelatin when they touched the ground again so she was grateful for the fact that his hands were holding her hips.

Clarke regards her inner calendar before answering, “Five weeks.”

His grin broadens, “Perfect. That gives me plenty of time.”

Her eyebrows raise at his words, “Plenty of time to what?”

“Too woo you.”

She snorts. She doesn’t mention he already ‘wooed’ back when they debated over novels on the boat when she was twelve, and continued when she was fifteen and they discussed everything from art to boyfriends, and then when she was seventeen and he made her heart race in such a new and exciting way. She only playfully rolls her eyes and says, “You’re a dork.”

He presses a kiss to her forehead, “A dork you’ll inevitably fall in love with.”

-

Bellamy doesn’t realize how true that statement is until he’s in too deep himself.

He thinks it starts with the way she looks on their first date. With her little black dress and heels that she later takes off when she dares him to race her back to his truck from the very expensive restaurant.

He knows he’s in love when she rushes over in the middle of the night, a bright smile on her face when he answers the door to see the new copy of the book he’d been raving about for the last few weeks with the author’s _fucking_ signature. She laughs into his heated kiss and the sound is magical to his ears.

Their first real fight makes his heart ache for a good four days, both of them too stubborn to apologize until they both end up crowded against the kitchen wall in Octavia’s new apartment that she shared with Lincoln. They express how sorry they are three times later that night.

Bellamy’s pretty sure he’s never felt more full until the day she answers ‘yes’ to his proposal. His hands are clammy and his heart is in his throat until she’s wrapping her arms around his shoulders and dragging him up to a standing position (Octavia had threatened bodily harm if he didn’t get down on one knee.)

When he comes home, tired and grumpy from a long day of grading paper’s he doesn’t expect to see Clarke circling the corner, eyes brimmed with tears which causes him to hurry to embrace her. It takes her a second but a small smile appears on her lips as she hands him over the small white stick she’s clutching. A positive symbol looking back at him. ‘I’m pregnant,’ she whispers and he embraces her tightly, laughing with joy against her hair.

He’s in love again. She’s beautiful. Alexandra Aurora Blake. Clarke’s hair sticks to her face with sweat and he repeatedly presses kisses against the top of her head, cheek, and forehead along with their daughter. His family is so beautiful.  _His_ family.

“I wouldn’t want this with anyone else,” he whispers to Clarke who’s leaning her head on his shoulder as they stare down in the bundle of pink in his arms.

She looks up at him, “It’s always been you.”

_It’s always been her._

-

_So come on, get higher, loosen my lips,_

_Faith and desire and the swing of your hips,_

_Just pull me down hard,_

_And drown me in love..._

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, if you made it to the end, bless you! I know I over did it with the fluff, especially towards the end because I suck at endings and I wasn't sure how to do it.
> 
> Also this was supposed to be different. With a much larger age gap and a story where the best man starts to feel something for the maid of honor who's too young for him and they don't see each other till the wedding anniversary which is why the wedding parts are SO much longer than the other two parts but I'm a sucker for the 3+1 tropes so I decided to change it.
> 
> Another "fun" fact (not really fun at all): I was halfway done with the wedding parts when I realized I could have used Wick and Raven over Atom and Roma but by that time I had written both their names so many times I was too lazy to change it.
> 
> Also I made it Bellamy's POV for the last few sentences, I'm not sure why, I just went with it.
> 
> Okay, I think that's all I have to say. Let me know your thoughts :)


End file.
